


Behind The Scenes

by herecstasy



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, The Addams Family (1991)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-12-21 01:36:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herecstasy/pseuds/herecstasy
Summary: This is a little different, as it’s (naturally still purely fictitious) but written about the great actors behind Morticia and Gomez’s movie iterations, Anjelica and Raúl. A sort of ‘they fell in love behind the scenes’ thing, so if this is not to your liking, please don’t read on. What can I say, their chemistry on screen was legendary and it gets me thinking! I have of course taken some liberties with the facts around the filming etc., but as this is all fiction anyway, anything goes!





	1. Chapter 1

It had been an awfully long day. Take after take of some of the most physically gruelling scenes in the whole Addams Family movie, and by the end, Raúl’s ardour had been wearing thin. Sonnenfeld, the director, had eventually called time for the day, and bade his cast and crew to retire for the night, particularly as there had been rumours of an impending storm to come, and all were to return again bright and early the next morning. As the mansion in which they shot the majority of the interior scenes was so isolated – a good hundred miles of dark wood, sharp ravines and treacherous dirt roads lay in every direction – all involved were spending the next three weeks in caravans and trailers in the grounds, and tensions were running high. They had already been filming for four weeks by this point, and cast and crew alike were desperate for some respite, to return to their families and regular lives. Such was life on set.

Raúl was, for want of a better word, exhausted. Physically, something just didn’t feel quite right of late, and he had found that challenges he had taken up with ease in his youth were becoming ever more taxing. He had shaken off his friends’ concerns, stating quite forcefully that it was merely a part of ageing, and not to bother him further. This gloomy evening, Raúl consoled his bad mood and fractious temper – something else he put down to the ageing process, alongside the occupational hazard that came with being a hot-blooded Puerto Rican, particularly one who dedicated his life to the arts. Drama and melancholy came easy to him, and he was too set in his ways to change.

It was true that on set, his training came to the fore, his fits of pique were reserved mainly for his evenings alone, and he was a delight to everyone he came across. The children who were playing the Addams’ offspring were wise beyond their years, and he was terribly fond of them both. Many of the crew murmured amongst themselves about how it was rare treat to come across such a down-to-Earth actor in this industry. 

And then there was his enchanting co-star, the Morticia to his Gomez. Anjelica. Such an apt name for such a heavenly creature. It had been many years since Raúl had worked with such a personable actress. In their game, it was too easy for egos to inflate, and on-screen love affairs to translate to dire fallings-out behind the scenes. But Raúl genuinely enjoyed Anjelica’s company. He delighted in watching her break into smiles and laughter the second Sonnenfeld yelled ‘cut’, and her straight-faced Morticia gave way to infectious giggles and the odd curse word, after a surreptitious glance to see that Christina and Jimmy were not in ear shot. In short, she made the experience bearable, and – dare he say it – pleasurable. Their conversation between takes was easy and unforced, and it did not hurt, of course, that she was an incredibly alluring woman. In his work life, Raúl was usually nothing but professional. But he had confessed to friends that he had purposely asked for more retakes of some of the more intensely romantic scenes between Gomez and Morticia than perhaps were required.

None of this helped his mood this evening though. Raúl sat slumped in his leather easy chair, nursing a scotch and watching a particularly intense storm playing outside the windows, the night sky lit by sheet lightning every few minutes, and the rain thundering down upon the tented roof of his temporary home was quite hypnotic. Having spent many of his formative years in his native Puerto Rico, Raúl had experienced his fair share of tropical storms, and found them almost comforting in their savagery. He was sharply roused from his reverie by a knock at the door; a noise he only heard by chance as it came in a break in the thunder. Frowning, he laid his drink aside and switched on the antique table lamp by his side before rising to answer the call.

As he opened the door, a flash of lightning illuminated the surrounding trailers, housing the now-stranded cast and crew, and beyond, the dark woods that kept them more or less captive. Standing in front of him, drenched to the skin and visibly shivering, was Anjelica. 

“May I come in?” she asked, courteous as always, despite her teeth chattering with cold.

“Of course! My apologies, come!” Raúl reached out his hand and helped poor Anjelica to climb the steps, not an easy task as she was still dressed in her restricting costume, much to Raúl’s surprise. As he pulled the door closed, fighting against the howling winds outside, Raúl turned to face his co-star, who at that moment was wringing out the rainwater from her Morticia wig. She turned and grinned apologetically as she realised her clothes had dragged half of the storm in to Raúl's clean and tidy cabin.

“What happened? Here, let me get you some blankets, towels. Why were you ever out in this weather? Madness!” Raúl's Puerto-Rican accent, once not on camera, was far more pronounced, and although his English was fluent, when not following a script, his speech was peppered with Spanish turns of phrase, which Anjelica found both endearing and oddly attractive. As he spoke, Raúl was hunting through his generous wardrobe for the aforementioned items, and Anjelica reached out a hand to stop him.

“It’s quite alright,” she replied, her own accent more evident now; a soft mid-Atlantic tone, the result of having lived in Ireland and England in her youth, before retuning to the States.

“I stupidly got myself locked out of my cabin,” she continued, flashing her easy smile at her host as he stood before her, arms full of blankets, and a wry smile of his own playing about his mouth. “The storm came on before any of the wardrobe girls could help me out of this infernal contraption, and it’s getting harder to breathe now. Would you be a dear?”

Raúl was taken aback by Anjelica’s evident trust in him and their closeness as she turned and gestured at the myriad buttons that must be undone in order to free her of that first obstacle. Raúl dutifully made short work of the dress, suppressing an appreciative groan as Anjelica allowed the soaked black fabric to fall to her hips. 

“It’s this damned corset,” she gasped, turning her head to glance over her shoulder. Her breaths were more pronounced now, and if it weren’t so clearly due to discomfort from the metal corset into which the plucky actress was imprisoned each day, Raúl could have sworn she was deliberately teasing him. There were certainly some fairly impure thoughts running through his mind as he helped her to remove the offending item. Once freed, Anjelica allowed herself to collapse face down on the comfortable couch that sat alongside Raúl's armchair.

“That’s so much better. Thank you,” she muttered against the cushions as she relished the feeling. Fourteen hours now she had been trussed up as Morticia, and being locked out of her own caravan had been the last straw. She could have called at the trailer of one of the wardrobe mistresses, she knew, but something had driven her to seek out dear Raúl. She felt a true delight in his company, and knew he would not hesitate to offer his help and sanctuary.

Raúl himself had removed his wire-rimmed glasses as he knelt by Anjelica’s side; an inner ethical dilemma was playing out, as he cast his eyes over her bare skin, and listened to her sighs of relief. His moral side chastised him thoroughly for the thoughts that were running unbidden through his head at that moment, paradoxically encouraged by his red-blooded self. He was just a man, was he not? And what man could resist the odd fantasy when confronted with the image of a topless and breathless beauty in his presence? Shaking his head as he tried to remember himself and his manners, Raúl frowned as he noted the red marks on Anjelica’s skin, clearly where the corset had cut into her skin. 

“You are hurt? Is there something I can find for you…?” he began, gently placing a blanket over Anjelica’s shivering form as she lifted her head to smile at him.

“I will be fine, love,” she replied lightly, unaware of the impact such a simple use of the typically British term of endearment had on him. “Could I trouble you for a shower though?”

“Of course!” Raúl leapt to his feet and strode across to his en suite, turning on the shower in an effort to warm up the room for his most welcome guest. He handed her an armful of towels, which Anjelica struggled to balance alongside holding up the blanket to cover her modesty. She grinned as she stepped inside and thanked him once again for his hospitality. 

“It might take me a long time to take all of this off,” she said with a wave at her make-up – half of which had been removed already by the storm.

“Please, take all the time you do require. I will be just here if you need...” Raúl trailed off, realising there was no way he could offer to help his good friend shower and remain thought of a gentleman.

“I think I can manage!” Anjelica laughed as she closed the door behind her and stepped forward into the cloud of steam that emanated from the shower already.


	2. Chapter 2

A full half an hour later, the bathroom door opened, and an honest-to-goodness vision of loveliness stepped through. Raúl had by now drawn the curtains to shut out the storm, and had lit several candles to compliment the two small table lamps adorning his sideboard, bathing the whole room in a soft, admittedly very romantic light. The small cabin was a reflection of Raúl; dark, Spanish, classic, welcoming. An old radio on the bureau was tuned to a pirate radio station that played gentle Puerto Rican classics, and two glasses of wine were poured and ready on the dining table. He had done a sterling job turning his small cabin into a welcoming, cosy den for two, Anjelica noted with a smile.

“I am sorry, I have only red wi...” Raúl trailed off as he turned upon hearing footsteps behind him, and he gazed unabashedly at the change in his visitor. As her clothes had been soaked, and were additionally terribly uncomfortable, Raúl had hung one of his lounge shirts up on the door for Anjelica to change into, which she had accepted gratefully. Raúl swallowed hard as he tried to tear his eyes away, thankful that Anjelica herself was distracted by the pictures of a young Raúl with his father, propped up against one of the lamps. Raúl had seen Anjelica outside of her Morticia get-up, naturally, but she had always had some level of residual make-up on, or that wig, which took such effort to put on each time, that she preferred not to remove it until she was certain they were done for the day. Now, here she stood before him, elegant in his shirt which barely reached down to mid-thigh. Raúl tried not to entertain the thought that she wore nothing whatsoever beneath, given that everything she had worn before had been soaked by the rain. He feared if he allowed his mind to wander even slightly in that direction, his body would betray his lusts in quite the ungentlemanly manner. He forced himself to remove his eyes from her impossibly long legs, and instead take in the pleasant view further up. A bonny face, completely devoid of make-up and looking several years younger than her vixen-like Morticia. Her hair was as black as Morticia’s, but she wore it in a stylish bob, and it suited her beautifully. Without Morticia’s wicked corset twisting her frame into an almost impossible silhouette, her body was curvier than that of her alter-ego, healthier and infinitesimally more inviting. As a red-blooded Puerto Rican, Raúl greatly appreciated the natural curves of a woman, and he must admit that he found those of his co-star incredibly alluring. As she opened her mouth to speak, turning her attention back to him, Raúl shook himself from his fantasy and crossed to her side.

“This is you?” she asked, gesturing at the faded photo.

“With my father and uncles,” he responded.

“I’d recognise those eyes anywhere!” Anjelica said with a light laugh, replacing the photo on the table.

“Yes, they always have been my bugbear, almost literally,” Raúl said, with a weary smile. “Big eyes for a child, I never grew into them! And then of course I must wear these damned things to see!” He gestured at his wire-rimmed glasses, flushing slightly as Anjelica placed a hand on his arm.

“Oh stop it now,” came the Irish turn of phrase that often peppered her speech. “I did an interview just today where I spoke about being so thrilled when I landed this role, just to be able to gaze into your wonderful eyes. They are what make you ‘you’. Embrace that! And you look very handsome in your glasses. Debonair, even. I always did have a thing for men in glasses.”

Raúl raised his eyebrow in questioning at this remark, half-hoping it was directed solely at himself, whilst simultaneously chiding himself for his vanity. He could not help but feel a joyful calm and reassurance in the way Anjelica spoke, never sounding rehearsed or phoney. When she gave a compliment, it was because she meant it. 

By now, Anjelica had moved away once again, helping herself to a glass of wine, and as she drank her hips swayed gently to the music on the radio. Turning to Raúl, she placed the glass on the table and held out her hands.

“Teach me to dance like a Puerto Rican?” she asked with a grin, tugging at the hem of the shirt she wore, which had ridden up to show an almost improper expanse of smooth skin. Raúl was grateful for her action, fearing he might soon lose all sense of propriety. Instead, he stepped close to his ravishing guest, instinctively holding her in a formal waltz, a result of many hours having rehearsed for a moment mid-film, where Gomez and Morticia would dance around the grand ballroom. But now, in the soft candlelight and with a familiar gentle melody filling the air, Raúl felt his stance soften as Anjelica followed his lead, her bewitching gaze never faltering as she watched his handsome face, held close enough against him to feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“In mi barrio, there were many dances, always everyone in the street, the clubs, everywhere. They never walked, in Puerto Rico, only danced! This music playing now, it is for a sort of slowed-down salsa. Very romantic; a dance for lovers.”

Undeterred by the sensual moves and closeness of her co-star, Anjelica was demonstrating just how quickly she picked up new experiences, moving with a freedom and grace she could never display in character as Morticia, and quite relishing this chance to learn at the hands of someone she held in such high regard. Feeling the ease with which Anjelica moved in his arms, Raúl too began to give in to the music and intensity of the moment and before long, any observers of the pair could be forgiven for thinking that they had danced together for many years, particularly as Anjelica rested her head against Raúl's shoulder as the night wore on and the toll of the heavy day’s filming began to wear upon her. Raúl noticed her encroaching tiredness and slowed their dance to a gentle sway. 

Anjelica raised her head at a pause in the music, noting that several of the candles had now burned themselves out, and wondering to herself just what hour it was, and more pressingly; where would she spend the night? She knew Raúl would not throw her out into the storm, and yet she felt it impolite to assume she could sleep there. Indeed, the thought of sleeping in the same room as the great man himself made her feel nervous, and more than a little giddy, like a school girl with her first crush. As these thoughts ran through her head, she realised that Raúl was regarding her with a very tender gaze, a look in his eyes she had only seen before on set, when she had been lucky enough to be the Morticia to his adoring Gomez. The same look his alter-ego bestowed upon her Morticia, only now she was on the receiving end herself. She closed her eyes in expectation as she saw Raúl tilt his head, in anticipation of a kiss.

Of course, at that most crucial of moments, Mother Nature decided to intervene, as only she knew how. To Anjelica’s intense frustration, a blinding flash of lightning, accompanied almost immediately by a crash of thunder caused both to jump violently, the bulbs in the lamps to blow, and the radio to cease playing in spectacular fashion, a bright blue shock of electricity frying the electrics for good. As Raúl ran to pull the plug from the wall and throw the offending item in the sink, for want of a better place, Anjelica shook herself and laughed aloud at her fright.

“I don’t know why it frightened me so,” she mused as she took a seat upon the comfortable leather couch. “We had storms a-plenty growing up. I love to watch them. I suppose this tie I was just distracted...”

She lowered her gaze, a definite blush spreading across her cheeks as she avoided Raúl's questioning gaze, before looking up again as the caravan fell dark. Raúl had blown out the last of the candles, before pulling open the curtains, as if grandly unveiling the greatest show on Earth. He made his way over to the sofa, and sat down beside Anjelica, sighing happily as she curled up against his side and once again rested her head on his shoulder.

“I love to watch the storms too,” he said simply.


	3. Chapter 3

The frantic knock at Raúl's trailer door was an unpleasant awakening for Raúl and Anjelica the following morning. It took Raúl a brief moment to gather his thoughts, and work out just why he had fallen asleep on his couch, and indeed why his beautiful co-star was curled up next to him, her head resting in his lap, in quite the compromising position. His hand had been resting on his knee, fingers lightly tangled in Anjelica’s silken hair. A quick glance down at the slumbering beauty aroused his libido somewhat, as he noticed that the shirt she wore had ridden up overnight, and it was only the fact of sleeping on her side that protected Anjelica’s modesty. The rattling at the door once again stirred Raúl from his reverie, and he gently slid from underneath Anjelica, donning his spectacles as he opened the door to a harried-looking runner.

“I’m sorry Señor Juliá, but I have been sent to find you and Miss Huston, you were due in make-up half an hour ago...”

“Ay, mierda! I apologise. Miss Huston had to spend the night here, due to the storm. We will be there in two minutes. I overslept… please send my apologies.”

Before any further awkward questions could be asked, Raúl gently closed the door, whirling round as he heard a flurry of activity behind him.

“Shit! Oh, Sonnenfeld will not be happy...” Anjelica sounded despondent as she gathered up her belongings, having thrown one of Raúl's housecoats around her shoulders, in order to avoid having to wander across the entire set barely dressed.

“Is this okay?” she asked Raúl, glancing up into his remarkably calm features, as she moved non-stop, the worry in her voice causing Raúl to wonder what harsh words the director had spoken to this poor girl in the past.

“Yes, of course. Come, let me carry that metal contraption for you,” Raúl offered as they hurried through the door together, both secretly grateful for the rush, as it gave them a focus other than the difficult conversation both knew was to come sooner or later.

Before long, they had arrived on set, full of apologies and each trying to suppress their guilt; for both of them it was a guilt that was driven more by the depth of their feelings, rather than for any actions. They both reasoned to themselves, they hadn’t really done anything one may consider cheating, after all. True, they had danced, and ever such a sensuous dance at that. But then again, Anjelica had requested an authentic Puerto Rican dance, and the music had leant itself to the ‘dance for lovers’ so well. And true, they had almost kissed, but the storm had called a halt to that, bringing both to their senses. And true, they had slept in a fairly compromising position. But it hadn’t been by design. They had been exhausted. All of these thoughts ran through both of their minds as they were immediately separated from each other, ushered by crew members, pulled and pushed about by make-up and wardrobe, ready for the day ahead. It didn’t matter to them if their excuses were just that… excuses. For the time being they absolved themselves of horrific guilt, and focused on the task at hand. Recriminations could come later.

They were to spend the next few days filming Fester’s farewell ball, and all involved had spent many long hours rehearsing the various dance moves required. Anjelica and Raúl in particular had spent a great deal of time learning how to waltz correctly from an esteemed ballroom dancer, in a little studio in the city, several days before the entire company had become all but stranded in the gothic mansion. 

As the cameras began to roll, and Sonnenfeld called ‘action’, Christopher Lloyd - utterly transformed into the loveable rogue that was Fester Addams - made his way into the centre of the grand ballroom, the candles he was holding illuminating his grotesque face quite wonderfully. In the background, Raúl's Gomez slid across the open doorway to stand by Anjelica’s side. 

“Tish… how long has it been since we’ve waltzed?” 

Raúl delivered his line with a tenderness none of the assembled crew had yet heard him to bring to his character, as devoted as Gomez was. He held Anjelica’s hands in his own, noting the coolness of her skin, and he briefly hoped she hadn’t caught a chill from the torrential rains that had soaked her the night before. Raúl was quickly bought back to the present moment by Anjelica’s reply.

“Oh Gomez… hours!” she sighed, allowing Raúl to spin her into position and slide a hand around her waist, the same flurry of excitement spreading through her body at his touch as she had felt yesterday evening, swaying in his arms. Somehow today the dreadful metal corset and restricting dress didn’t seem quite so uncomfortable. Although Raúl had always been a true gentleman and courteous co-star, Anjelica couldn’t help but notice the way he held her far more carefully now, as if afraid to cause her any more discomfort than her costume already did of its own accord.   
It was only later, as the crew checked the scene back, that Sonnenfeld noticed the camera had caught a distinctly un-Morticia-like broad smile upon Anjelica’s face as she and Raúl had begun their waltz. He made a mental note to remind his lead actress the next day of Morticia’s impassive nature. Less smiling, more stoicism!

For now, however, there was a more pressing reason for Sonnenfeld to call a halt to the filming, and reprimand his cast. For all its embracing of the dark world of the Addams family, and for all the suggestive undertones, this was still a family film. Yet somehow the countless hours of training and rehearsal for the dance scene seemed to be for naught, as Raúl and Anjelica appeared to have drifted off into a world of their own, and were dancing as though they were a pair of star-crossed lovers who had been kept from each other’s embrace for ever such a long time, bodies moving together, lost in each other’s gaze. Their slow, sultry moves were unrecognisable from the effortless waltz Sonnenfeld had witnessed many times over in rehearsal. Anjelica suddenly appeared unencumbered by her costume, and her hips swayed sensually against Raúl's, his hand possessively resting on her lower back, the other caressing the back of her neck. Sonnenfeld heard young Christina giggling from the doorway to the great hall, thankfully at present not in shot, and called out a curt ‘Cut!’, if for no reason other than to prevent the impressionable young actors from viewing any more of their on-screen parents’ lustful display.

With expressions reminiscent of the grievous looks Morticia and Gomez had cast at Pinderschloss when she had interrupted their kiss on the wheel of pain – a scene they had shot a few days earlier – Raúl and Anjelica paused their dance as the director strode across the room. Sonnenfeld stuttered for a moment as he noted that Raúl had not yet relinquished his hold on his leading lady, and Anjelica herself seemed perfectly comfortable in his arms.

“What was that?! This is a family film! A graceful waltz is all I asked from you! What is going on with you both? Is there something I should know?” Sonnenfeld admonished the pair soundly. The sound of low chatter from behind him reassured him that Judith and Carel were entertaining Christina and Jimmy during this unscheduled break, and he fixed Raúl with an untrusting stare. 

“Nothing at all,” came Raúl's calm reply. “I take responsibility, it has been a while since we rehearsed and I did forget my moves, somewhat.” 

As he spoke, Raúl stroked his fingers in small circles over Anjelica’s lower back, a movement not unnoticed by Sonnenfeld. The director opened his mouth once again to challenge the pair, but Raul’s unwavering stare and polite smile disarmed him, and he merely rolled his eyes as he stormed back to the small crew milling behind the camera. As the call rang out for the scene to reset, Raúl and Anjelica rearranged themselves into the formal ballroom stance, and for the first time since they had been questioned, locked eyes with one another. Anjelica flushed, unseen beneath her heavy make-up. Raúl flashed a reassuring smile, and as the background music piped up, diligently began to lead his on-screen lover in a flawless waltz around the room.

_‘Whatever this thing is, whatever it turns out to be… we’ve got to be a lot more careful,’_ Anjelica told herself as Raúl raised her hand to his lips in another unscripted moment; but this one at least was allowed to pass. It was fully in character, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

As was fairly typical of life on a film set - coupled with the fact that the cast and crew were genuinely fond of each other’s company – the constant presence of others milling around them became a source of great frustration to both Raúl and Anjelica as the day wore on. Despite the pair somewhat dreading finally having the time and space to be together, with all the uncomfortable questions that would bring, paradoxically neither could wait to see what would transpire between them, given the chance. Of course, they had yet to verbalise any fondness or feelings to each other, beyond the well-documented pleasantries they espoused regarding the pleasure of working together in various interviews and press releases – quite routine in this line of work. But actions speak louder than words, and both Raúl and Anjelica were astute enough to recognise the signs in each other.

After numerous resets and takes of Fester’s farewell party, long after the sun had set that day, Sonnenfled was finally satisfied, and released his actors for the night. Having spent the majority of the day in Raúl's arms, Anjelica was somewhat reluctant to remove herself from his embrace, and indeed was only half-listening to the notes the director was delivering to the assembled crew, her mind quite occupied with the sensation of Raúl's fingers tracing lazy circles over her hip. She bit her lip, delighting in the sharp intake of breath she elicited from him, relishing the excitement of their public flirtation. Ethics, morals and responsibilities were far from her mind right now; questions for another time, another day. 

That thought was driven quite suddenly from her mind the next moment, however. A cry of ‘Anjelica, my dear!’ drifted across the ballroom, and Anjelica froze as her eyes settled upon Robert, her partner of 8 months. He approached the small circle of people, accompanied by a runner, who he warmly thanked for her guidance as he placed a gentle kiss against Anjelica’s temple, careful not to smudge her make-up. 

“Wh.. wha’?” Anjelica stammered, taken aback not only by this unexpected visit, but also by the speed with which Raúl had dropped his hands from her waist, moving back to a more formal distance. 

“I apologise my dear, I had simply wanted to surprise you. It’s been a long month without you at home,” Robert spoke lightly, casting a warm smile in Raúl's direction, with a gentle nudge at Anjelica’s arm.

“No… that’s… a lovely surprise. Thank you. Forgive me. Raúl, this is Robert. We… live together. Robert, this is Raúl Juliá, my esteemed co-star,” Anjelica eeked out an introduction, sliding to the side as the pair shook hands, a genuine warmth in Robert’s smile.

“Mr Juliá, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am a great admirer,”

“That is very kind. Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you too. If you would both excuse me...”

Raúl's words were courteous enough, but Anjelica shuddered at the cool civility of his tone, at such odds with the warm tenderness with which he usually spoke around her. Before she could make her excuses to follow him, Robert had held out his arm to his dear one.

“Mr Sonnenfeld has very kindly informed me that I might steal you away for the rest of the evening,” he said lightly, and Anjelica resigned herself to an evening of pleasantries and lightness; perfectly acceptable, but she longed for nothing more than the intensity and thrill of another night with a certain hot-blooded Puerto-Rican instead.

That night, sleep eluded poor Raúl, until the small hours. What a contrast to the night before, he mused unhappily as he lay in his bed. A mere 24 hours before, and he had been blissfully happy, swaying in his front room with a beautiful woman, and now, here he was, having lost her to another before he had even had a chance to prove his affection was more than harmless flirtation. Through the still of the night, Raúl could hear faint cries of pleasure emanating from one of the nearby cabins. This was itself not unusual; many of the crew were known to share frantic nights together, quite the ‘what happens on set stays on set’ mentality amongst the young up-and-comers of the industry. Raúl gritted his teeth and fervently hoped it wasn’t Anjelica’s ecstasy he could hear – the sounds were muffled enough to be indistinguishable as to exactly who was having a rolling good time out there. As he pulled a pillow over his ears, one final thought flickered across his mind before sinking into a fractious sleep; if it indeed was her he could hear, dear God how he wished he was the one causing her such pleasure. 

As the sun rose the following morning, and despite a fair few hours sleep, Raúl felt in no better a mood. In fact, his dreams had been an intoxicating mix of erotic and romantic interludes, during each one of which Anjelica was the sole participant, naturally. To wake to find that the bliss he had experienced overnight had been but a tantalising dream, Raúl had been irritable to say the least. His mood had not been improved upon arriving on set only to find that he was not scheduled to even lay eyes upon the object of his desire that day. She would be in one of the old cabins on the edge of the site, reading scary tales to children, bringing Morticia to life as a school teacher for a brief scene later in the movie. He himself would be rowing and chasing Christopher around the dungeon-set as they filmed the brothers’ revisiting of their old vault and den.

As Christopher and Raúl strolled from wardrobe to the set, Raúl glanced up to see a fleeting vision of loveliness in the far distance; Anjelica was making her way across the Addams’ cemetery, heading for the old shack in which she was to spend the day. He raised a hand in a wave, and was dismayed to see her disappear around the corner before she could see his greeting. To make matters worse, Robert, clearly intent on spending the day on set, had seen him, and waved enthusiastically in reply. Raúl lowered his hand once the scholarly fellow had walked out of sight, unable to hide the snarl on his face. He was being unfair, he knew that. Robert was a perfectly pleasant man, Raúl had to admit, even through his irrational dislike of the chap. 

Christopher sidled up to his on-screen brother, murmuring a single friendly warning.

“Careful,” he intoned, a friendly hand clapping Raul’s shoulder as the pair made their way to their mark for the umpteenth take of the day. Not for the first time, Raúl smiled at Christopher as he made a mental note not to wear his heart quite so prominently on his sleeve. Instead, he scribbled a quick note, and in a brief break on set, bade little Christina to deliver it to her on-screen mother. With a dry smile, betraying the wisdom beyond her years, looking every inch the perfect Wednesday Addams, she had dutifully delivered the message, casting a curious glance across at the paper as Anjelica had unfolded it. Raul’s messy scrawl was nonetheless legible.

‘Come to me tonight? I have something to tell you. R.’

As the sun set that night, Raúl resigned himself to another unhappy evening. He had returned to his trailer an hour earlier, and had just got off the phone, following a truly difficult conversation. The end of a long term relationship was nothing to celebrate, and he especially hated to have done so in such an impersonal way. She was a good woman, and deserved a face-to-face conversation. But she was stuck back in New York, countless miles from the isolation of the Addams’ set, and Raúl could not abide one more day of falling deeper for another woman, whilst his loyal partner at home patiently awaited his return. That question of ethics and morals which had been put to sleep the day before finally resurfaced and called him to account.

Raúl paced nervously back and forth in the soft lamplight, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses back on his nose as he glanced at the clock. Even though they had not specified a time, his anxiety was growing. He did not even know what his plan was, what he would say. All he knew was that his desire to see Anjelica’s face once again was too great. A soft salsa tune played on the old radio, reminiscent of the songs they had danced to that first night, and Raúl hummed along as he tapped his foot in frustration. The soft rap at the door heralded her arrival, and Raúl jumped to answer.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly, standing back to let her come in. In quiet contrast to her easy coquetry of 2 nights earlier, Anjelica now seemed withdrawn, a little upset even. She stood in the centre of the small lounge area as Raúl placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, wringing her hands in front of her. She had something she must tell him, but Raúl himself seemed keyed up, he had clearly been working up to something for a while now, and she bade him speak first.

“Anjelica…” he began enthusiastically, and she felt her resolve already begin to fade at the heavily-accented pronunciation of her name. The way he said it filled her with such joy.

“I don’t know what it is I want to say. My thoughts are...” he waved his hands wildly, unable to find the words in English to verbalise his feelings.

“I don’t know what is happening, all I know is I have not felt like this for a long while, you know? I think I am starting to understand Gomez and his passion with his raven-haired temptress… it is like I am him come to life now. I understand why he does these crazy things. I never did before and then you… For you, I ended my relationship tonight. I… don’t know what it is we may share, mi Anjel, but I want there to be nothing to stop us if we...”

As his half-sentence drew to an end, Raúl raised a hand to caress Anjelica’s cheek. Behind his glasses, his eyes shone with an almost heartbreaking anticipation, coupled with undisguised infatuation. Anjelica placed a hand over his and felt her eyes fill with tears as she responded quietly, eyes cast downwards, unable to meet his hopeful gaze.

“Darling Raúl,” she started, her voice cracked with emotion. “I have to tell you… Robert, he proposed to me tonight.”

Raúl's hand fell limply to his side and his expression crumpled as he took a step back.

“What did you say?” he asked, afraid of the answer.

“I didn’t give him an answer, my love,” Anjelica responded quickly. “He left tonight to return to work, and he asked me as he left. I told him I was too blind-sided and I would call him tomorrow. He is a good man, Raúl. He truly is. I can’t betray him any longer. Not until I have an answer one way or another for him.”

Raúl had no words left. He fought against the rising feelings competing within; his urge to throw Anjelica to his bed, show her with actions and adoration just what he wanted to say, if he had the words; his want to ask her to leave, so he could curse and shout at the skies for the cruelness of the situation; his desire to pull her into his arms and dance with her one more time, hoping that moment would never end, as it staved off the pain of the following day when she may promise herself to another. He chose that final option, and for the next hour, neither spoke a word, overcome with emotion and clinging to the other, praying the morning would never come.


	5. Chapter 5

Unfortunately for Raúl, the sun does have a habit of rising on a new day, no matter how desperately one might wish the night would never end. He had managed to snatch precious little fitful sleep in the few hours between Anjelica departing and the morning call to set. The events of the night before, and his desperate fears for what the day might bring weighed heavy on his soul. He had been hoping against hope that at least today might afford him a little respite from his emotions, as he had planned to speak with Sonnenfeld and request a change in filming schedule, uncomfortably aware that the plan for the day was the filming of one of the most romantic scenes in the movie. Anything to distance himself from his cruelly beguiling co-star. A few days hamming it up with Christopher, and he would feel more ready to face her again. At least by then he would have her answer. Of course, deep down he knew that his request would be declined, as indeed it was; too much preparation went into the set up of each day’s filming, and the fact that an actor’s heart was breaking was no reason at all to reschedule. And so, an hour later, both guilty parties in this twisted love affair emerged from wardrobe, and were escorted to a chillingly dark and moody graveyard set. 

Today they were to film Morticia and Gomez’s romantic interlude following the theatrical triumph of Wednesday and Pugsley at the school play. 72 hours earlier, Raúl would have been thoroughly excited at the prospect of spending a full day gazing into Anjelica’s bewitching eyes, and requesting another retake of their passionate kiss just one more time than was truly necessary. Now, with the uncertainty and jealousy welling up within, poor Raúl was quite at his wit’s end. He nodded politely at Anjelica as they were both ushered to the tatty couch, made up to look like a weathered stone monument, but for the comfort of the actors was actually a very firm cushioned seat. Anjelica herself flashed a genuine smile, disarming Raúl for a brief moment. He was desperate to ask what her answer was, had she made her choice, despite the fact that before they had parted last night he had promised her he would not push her too far. Before anything beyond a murmured greeting had passed Raúl's lips however, the bell had rung for silence on set, and Sonnenfeld was calling the pair to attention. The first take was perfectly passable. A devoted Gomez and seductive Morticia reminiscing beneath the moon, culminating in a passionate embrace; and in the final product, some clever editing would hint at a far more explicit end to the scene. As was only sensible, however, the director requested a second take. It made sense to have more than one version to play with, and something seemed slightly off in his leading man. Sonnenfeld couldn’t quite place it, but the usual fire with which Raúl imbued his Gomez was missing. Barry crossed to crouch by Raúl's side, glancing up to ensure that Anjelica herself was preoccupied with the make-up artist, who had run across at the first sign of a break to reapply the dangerous red lipstick that had been quite worn away by the climactic kiss.

“Raúl, that was just fine, but a little more passion next time around, man! Is there something you need to tell me?” he repeated his question of a few days previously, albeit with a more genuine concern for his friend’s state of mind than he had previously shown. 

Raúl shook his head, steeling himself as he replied breezily.

“Not at all, my friend. More passionate, I can do that.”

“You know your Gomez, man. He is smitten with this woman, and the marble couch in a secluded graveyard… it’s their version of a four-poster bed in a romantic get-away home. Yeah? Show us how infatuated Gomez is with Morticia.”

Raúl, eyes now firmly fixed on Anjelica, merely nodded his understanding, silently contemplating as Anjelica turned to him and flashed a smile. As the call came from behind the cameras, she placed her hands on his once again and spoke her cue lines, her seamless switch from her charming mid-Atlantic accent to Morticia’s cut-glass musical tones as captivating as ever.

“Just think. Someday we’ll be buried here, side by side, six feet under in matching coffins. Our lifeless bodies rotting together, for all eternity.”

“Cara mia...”

“Mon sauvage.”

Lips met and hands grasped as Raúl felt almost all of his professional resolve fade away at the pleasure granted by such intimate proximity to his longed-for one. It is true that screen kisses are by nature technical and fairly unromantic affairs for the actors themselves; testament to the magic of movies that by the time the viewing public lay eyes upon them, they are fully invested in the couple on-screen. But the technical aspect was quite forgotten now, and what had originally been envisioned as a brief embrace before the screen faded to black was now taken in a more intense direction as Raúl pressed against Anjelica, laying her back in his arms as he wilfully ignored the director’s first call to halt.

“Cut. Cut! Everyone back in fifteen!” came the longed-for cry from the assistant director as all present heaved a collective sigh of relief and raced away to the catering tents for a well-deserved cuppa.

Raúl turned to his co-star, a genuine concern in his eyes. He had felt her tiny gasp of surprise as he had continued in their embrace, beyond the moment she had expected he would break away, as he had done plenty of times over in rehearsal.

“I am sorry,” he whispered to Anjelica, eyes downcast through embarrassment as he was finally bought back to reality.

“You have no reason to be sorry. It was very… Gomez,” came her soft reply, and a red-painted nail lifted his chin, all the better to look into the heavy-lidded eyes she adored so. Raúl smiled weakly, giving in to his hot-blooded nature as he jumped to his feet and tugged at Anjelica’s hand.

He led her to the Addams’ crypt, on the edge of the graveyard set, where later in the movie, Gomez would find the runaway Wednesday. It was the nearest place that offered a modicum of privacy at that moment, and Raúl was grateful for the near darkness within, allowing him to speak with Anjelica as he hid his emotions as best he could.

“Did you answer him?” he asked quietly. The easy smile faded from Anjelica’s face as she shook her head, just visible in the gloom.

“I thought about it all night, but I just can’t… not yet. I don’t want to hurt either of you. I know I need to give you both an answer tonight. Please be patient with me, darling Raúl.”

Raúl himself was torn between frustration at her indecision, and anger at himself for demanding something so unfair of this woman before him. He was startled at the feeling of her hands taking hold of his, and her earnest tone as she spoke.

“Robert truly is a good man,” she said, her voice tinged with sorrow.

Raúl nodded grimly. 

“I know he is. And I am a wicked man for wanting to steal you away...”

“You aren’t! It’s not as black and white as that, my love. If you are wicked, then so am I for falling for someone else as well. I just want to limit the damage I cause in this whole sorry mess. Whoever I chose… I worry the other will hate me...”

Her voice trembled as she squeezed Raúl's hands tighter, and he rushed to reassure her, his demeanour switching from angry to adoring as his thumbs brushed tenderly over her wrists.

“No-one could ever hate you,, mi Anjel. You are perfection.” 

“I am far from that! No, just damaged beyond repair by now,” Anjelica replied with a hollow laugh.

“Vale! Then two damaged, wicked souls together can make it work?” Raúl delighted in the small laugh he elicited from Anjelica with his proclamation, tinged with sorrow as it was.

“I will wait for you, in sin,” he promised, raising her hand to his lips as the bell rang out, summoning them to return to the set.

***

The cast and crew had taken it upon themselves to throw an impromptu barbecue and bonfire that evening, celebrating the 50th day that they had all been holed up in the Addams’ universe. Spirits were high and music rang out into the darkening sky, mingling with the shouts of laughter and conversation from all assembled. Raúl himself stood near the bonfire, enjoying a glass of wine as he conversed lightly with the parents of his on-screen son. His eyes every so often darted around, seeking out Anjelica, but to no avail. It was only when Jimmy himself pointed across the field which held the various trailers and cabins temporarily housing the crew, that Raúl saw her. She had just left her own cabin, and even from this distance, he could tell she had been crying. Raúl quickly made his polite excuses to his present company, and made his way quickly across the grass to her side. As he reached her, there were no words spoken. It was too public here, too many joyful people milling around at every turn. Raúl slid his hand inside Anjelica’s, and swiftly led her to the dark woods that encircled the entire set, unseen by almost everyone. Only young Christina, standing alongside her parents as they awaited their food, noticed the couple disappear into the darkness offered by the forest, and a knowing smile spread across her face, eerily reminiscent of Wednesday herself.

As soon as they stepped beyond the line of trees, relishing the solitude they offered, Raúl turned to face his beloved. 

“Anjelica…?” he began, as always pronouncing her name with his charming Spanish interpretation.

His questioning gaze was met with a simple nod of her head, and Raúl felt his knees go weak with hitherto unknown relief and joy. He closed his eyes as Anjelica collapsed into his arms. He couldn’t help but feel an intense guilt and sorrow that their love affair had begun this way, but deep down he knew that he couldn’t have carried on working with her every day, particularly portraying such devoted lovers, if she had rejected him. In fact, forget the professional upset it would have caused… his entire life would have been unbearable if he had lost her to another.

He was roused from his reverie by the sensation of Anjelica raising her head from his shoulder, her eyes bright and tears dried. Her broad smile reflected his own as she closed her eyes and slipped her arms around the back of his neck, bringing their lips together at long last. Their first kiss – off-screen – was a tender, loving affair, and hidden amongst the trees as the sun finally set, leaving only the far-off glow of the crew’s bonfire, they both felt finally at peace.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not yet quite ready to end this fic, I am having too much fun indulging in their chemistry... but there might be a little bit more of a break before I continue, solely due to college work creeping upon me! Thank you for the kind messages and comments, both encouraging and constructive, appreciate them all.

By the time Raúl and Anjelica drifted back to reality and reluctantly parted, the sun had well and truly set. The bonfire party had gently faded away into the night as the couple had embraced and frolicked in the woods, and as they emerged hand-in-hand, it was to an eerily quiet meadow, gently lit by the smouldering remains of the fire, coupled with the twinkling lights emanating from the surrounding trailers and cabins, as the crew moved their party inside. Raúl cast Anjelica a knowing smile, as they made their way towards their own temporary homes. As they approached the small grass strip that separated their cabins, Raúl paused, suddenly nervous. He was calmed by a squeeze from Anjelica’s hand, and her soft voice drifting on the night air.

“Give me a few minutes, darling. I will be right over,” she breathed, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek as Raúl reluctantly released his grip on her hand, and Anjelica threw one final coquettish glance over her shoulder before disappearing into her cabin. Raúl stood for a moment, unhappy at the loss of contact, before shaking himself back to reality. He knew from experience that Anjelica could take her sweet time in preparing, and he was antsy to say the least. Making his way into his own cabin, he carefully left the door on the latch, on the off chance that his lover would arrive at the door whilst he was in the shower. As it turned out, he had plenty of time once returning to the main living room to set the mood, tea-light candles lighting every dark wood surface, and the recently-fixed radio tuned as ever to his favourite Puerto-Rican pirate station. Soft, romantic music flowed into the gently-lit room, and Raúl settled in his leather armchair, impatiently awaiting Anjelica. From where he sat, he could see the immaculately-made double bed in the snug alcove across the room, the cabin roof slanting down on one side. Set in the low ceiling was a skylight window, angled perfectly to show the stars shining above, a sight Raúl adored falling asleep to every night. He relished the thought of enjoying that beautiful light show that very night, this time with his dream girl in his arms. 

The emotional toll of the day began to creep upon Raúl as he sat, hands nervously trembling in his lap. A combination of mental exhaustion and not having slept the night before, coupled with the gentle music from the radio was a powerful sandman, and by the time Anjelica slipped quietly through the cabin door, she was greeted by the sight of her paramour sleeping soundly in the armchair. She smiled indulgently as she knelt by his side and removed Raúl's wire-rim glasses, already half fallen off.

“Good night, darling,” she whispered as she turned to place them on the nearby table. She was a little disappointed, she must admit; she had been desperately craving the closeness of her beloved, now that their affair had been fully realised by the pair, and had taken great pains to prepare for him. But her adoration for the man won out, and she realised he needed to rest. There would always be tomorrow. She let out a slight gasp as she suddenly felt a hand grasping at her waist, and turned her head to look down over the shoulder at the now wakeful Puerto-Rican. 

“Mi Anjel... eres divina,” he growled, and Anjelica felt her heart skip at the lustful break in his voice. His eyes shone as he took in the alluring vision before him, not once relinquishing his hold on her. Her bobbed black hair fell just above her shoulders in gentle waves, and her captivating brown eyes peeked from underneath her bangs, a deliberately coquettish choice on her behalf. Her face was radiant in the candle-light, free from the heavy make-up she was subjected to on camera, and her wicked curves were clad in a simple deep grey floor-length negligee, earning an appreciative groan from Raúl as his gaze travelled her full length.

“My love, you’re tired...” she began softly, turning to face him again and reaching a gentle hand out to stroke his cheek. A sinful smile spread across Raúl's face as he grasped her hand, and turned his head to kiss her wrist.

“Not any longer, you have made certain of that...” he uttered, pulling Anjelica down onto his lap, caught in his arms in one swift motion. Before she had a chance to react, to question if he truly couldn’t wait until the following morning, his mouth was pressed firmly against hers; a more passionate kiss this time, when compared to the tender, tearful woodland embrace of an hour before, and Anjelica quickly abandoned all thought of sleep. 

By the time the iniquitous lovers collapsed in breathless pleasure back against the bed, tangled in the sheets and still grasping at each other’s drenched skin, the candles had all but burnt themselves out, and only the silver rays of the moon through the skylight provided any light by which to admire each other’s post-coital beauty. They had left quite the trail of destruction across the small cabin, as they had moved clumsily and with little regard for anything but each other’s pleasure, from the chair to the bed. Raúl hadn’t expected to be able to last very long the first time they made love, not having spent the last few days in an almost permanent state of fantasy and erotic daydreams for his co-star. But Anjelica had been well aware of his predicament, and taken matters into her own hands, teasing and offering respite in equal measure until both felt they were ready. Those final few moments before climax had lasted an eternity for Raúl, bliss hovering just out of reach for a full torturous minute as Anjelica had held his face in her hands as they moved together, refusing to allow their lips to meet despite Raúl's vocal protestations. It was only when both gave in to their desperately longed-for pleasure and cried out together that she relented, and granted him a kiss.

And so now they lay, intertwined in each other, relishing the silence broken only by each other’s still breathless sighs; Morticia and Gomez come to life. Raúl’s arm was wrapped firmly around Anjelica’s waist, so unwilling was he to relinquish her body. The sound of her ragged breathing soothed Raúl beyond anything he had felt comfort from before. The hot-blooded actor placed a tender kiss on his lover’s temple as she rested against his chest, raining gentle kisses of her own over his burning skin.

“Dios Mio, I adore you mi Anjel...” Raúl murmured into the darkness. Anjelica echoed the sentiment with a sleepy whisper of her own, before the pair finally succumbed to satisfied exhaustion.

As the sun rose the next morning, Raúl was the first to wake. Despite his hatred of any space between them, Anjelica ended up lying on the far side of the bed to him, lying almost diagonally across the mattress, barely covered by the sheets. Raúl smiled, as he sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his eyes. Granted, he had slept better than he had in many a week, but he was still not fond of waking. At least now he had a reason to face each new day. As he reached for his glasses on the bedside table, Raúl heard a stirring in the bed behind him, accompanied by a sleepy moan, and the delightful sensation of Anjelica’s cool hands on his back.

The smile which had spread across Anjelica’s face as she had woken and instantly recalled the pleasure-driven events of the previous night now faded into a frown as she regarded Raúl’s back and shoulders. There were a fair few deep red scratches and bite marks marring his olive skin, and Anjelica knelt behind her lover as she kissed his neck and ran her fingers gently over the marks.

“Did I do that? I am so sorry my darling...” she began, stopping in her tracks as she noticed Raúl’s grin, and raised eyebrow.

“Do not be sorry, preciosa. I liked it.”

Anjelica blushed as she continued to plant gentle kisses across every inch of skin she could reach. After a short while, she came to a halt, and let out a trembling sigh. Raúl glanced at her, concerned, as she came to sit beside him at the bedside, pulling the sheet around her as she did so. 

“What is wrong, sweetheart?” he asked softly, linking his fingers with hers.

“Will this change things between us?” she asked, her voice tinged with sadness.

“Of course it will! But this is not a bad thing, querida...” Raúl began. Anjelica slipped from the bed, and knelt in front of her lover, gazing up with a vulnerability Raúl had never before thought her capable of; that one heart-wrenching look speaking volumes about her concern for their future together. Raúl rushed to reassure his beloved, taking her face in his hands as he spoke.

“It will change for the better, darling Anjelica. I will no longer be brooding on my all-consuming infatuation for you while assuming you could never feel the same. I will know now that you do, instead of coming home and trying to convince myself. I have fallen even deeper for you than ever, Anjel, and I could not stop if I tried. And I have no desire to try!”

As Raúl spoke, his accent grew more pronounced, the effect pure emotion always had on his speech pattern, and Anjelica settled back on her heels, satisfied.

The rest of the day was spent in a haze of pleasure and bliss, interspersed with snatches of sleep every here and there when they had no choice but to give in. The odd knock at the door was steadfastly ignored, and by midday the interruptions had stopped. There was no filming as such today, but several cast meetings had been scheduled. No matter, they both rationalised. They would catch up tomorrow. As the sun grew low in the sky that evening, bathing the site and surrounding woods in a glorious blue-grey haze, Anjelica and Raúl finally ventured out. Conversation flowed as easily as it ever had between them as they strolled hand-in-hand around the tumble-down graveyard set, relishing the quiet that the night time bought to usually such a bustling work environment. 

“We are becoming more and more Gomez and Morticia, no?” Raúl chuckled as they stopped by the edifice of the Addams’ crypt, where just over 24 hours before Raúl had begged Anjelica for an answer. 

“Two wicked souls together...” Anjelica agreed with a grin, raising her face to his in search of a kiss.


End file.
